


Undercover Neighbor

by shipswillendme



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-04-12 15:19:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4484384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipswillendme/pseuds/shipswillendme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy moves in to this “friendly” neighborhood as an undercover agent to solve a mystery and, in the meantime, manage to become good friends with her new neighbor Mrs. Angie Martinelli. But as their friendship grows Peggy suspects Angie’s husband to be a part of the unsolved mystery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be really fun, though, warning: there might be a lack of updates

Peggy wasn’t all that thrilled when Chief Dooley sent her on a mission to find a serial killer who was suspected to live in an upper-class suburban area. Peggy’s part was to go undercover as a new neighbor to the crazed soccer moms and hard working dads. She had never liked the arrogant parents who barely took care of their children but cared more about money rather than raising your child for the better. Then again, who did like them? Peggy had been happy in her two-room flat and late night missions. She wasn’t about to willingly give that up to retreat to a big house in the suburbs. Unfortunately, Peggy had no choice. Work was work and unless she wanted to be degraded to paperwork and assistance, she had to move.  
”Your apartment will be here for you when the killer is caught and you can go back to not sleeping and whatever hobbies you have outside of work.” Chief Dooley had told her and then handed her the key to her new home for the last god-knows-how-long.

* * *

 

The house was big and white. Too big and too white for Peggy’s taste. A perfect home was the most obvious cover for a person with secrets. The only thing you needed now was a perfect family and a perfect income. Fortunately, Peggy had none of those. Neither did she want it. Her plan was to work for the SSR until she couldn’t. Maybe there was something Howard could do to upgrade Peggy’s status but for now, Agent would definitely do.  
Peggy parked the moving-truck outside of the house. She had insisted on taking it herself, besides, the truck wasn’t very big and contained only one section of an ikea store. The heavy lifting was not a problem. None of the furniture were put together anyway and Peggy didn’t imagine they would be for a while. Peggy was just in the act of unloading the truck until she heard a voice behind her.  
”You must be a tough cookie if you can carry all that by yourself.” Startled, Peggy turned around to see a petite woman in a Ralph Lauren polo and tight jeans, meanwhile, Peggy had her usual white tank top and a pair of loose fit jeans.  
”Oh, this is really no trouble.” Peggy said but stopped when the woman had a surprised smile on her face.  
”You’re english! Oh that’s fantastic! I barely get to meet those anymore.” The woman had a lot of hope in her eyes for someone who had barely introduced herself.  
”Well, technically, you are english too, if we were to go back.” Peggy smiled. She rarely got to meet people who were exited to meet her. Mostly people got the impression of superiority when meeting Peggy but this woman was still standing here, talking.  
”Actually I’m Italian. Angela Martinelli.” said Angela and reached out her hand. ”But you can call me Angie.” Peggy Shook Angie’s hand.  
”Peggy Carter.”  
”So, Peggy, do ya need help moving boxes or could another person hurt?” Angie smiled.

* * *

 

The only thing in order in the new house was the bedroom and the basement. The basement didn’t have any windows but more, ventilations. Which was good in case of a break in. What was in the basement? Rifles, magnums, and serious new Stark technology. Peggy had an installed eye detector from the SSR so no one but an agent could enter the basement and if a break-in were to happen an alarm, with a horrid noise, would go off and wake half the neighborhood up which was necessary if the burglar were to escape. These theories were not very likely unless you were a very intelligent burglar. But, still, you had to be prepared for everything.  
Peggy’s preparation, in this case, was two stairs up to a tower like attic. The most traditional setup a spy could have. Binoculars. It was already getting very late and the only house that was lit was one a bit down the street. Peggy had mapped out the families that lived in the houses. Verne was the lit one. But the light was in a bedroom window and if you were a serial killer your stash would probably be in the basement. Peggy tried not to focus on the fact that she was being very suspicious as far as serial killers go.  
But what did the serial killer do? His victims had all been blonde, blue eyed women who had some type of failed marriages. First woman seemed like the most ordinary person you’d meet. Office worker, fairly tall, blonde and blue eyed (off course), and seemed to have trouble with her husband. The woman had been gutted and skinned. She was cut open like a butcher would handle a pig. The husband was brought in for interrogation and revealed that he, for a long time, had suspected his wife cheating on him. When they looked further into it the found a number to a female escort named Elise. She then later showed up to the funeral and the husband’s suspicion was proved to be true. He was brought in again, for custody this time. A jealous husband was the most obvious choice for killing instincts. But two days later a woman of similarities had been killed the same way. The police suspected a chef, or butcher of some kind, to be the killer and traces lead to this particular neighborhood. Sending Peggy, a brown haired brown eyed person, seemed like an obvious choice. Though Peggy liked to exclude the looks and think the men at her station chose her for her skill. Peggy had to think that way a lot. Being the only woman came with sexism, a thing she thought had extinct when the century hit. But her work told her otherwise.  
The clock hit 2:00 and nothing seemed to happen. Not a car nor a figure roamed the streets. Peggy considered her mission as a way to keep her preoccupied meanwhile the others did the real work. But at 02:09 she heard a car. She quickly scribbled down the registration number on a piece of paper and put it in The Catcher In The Rye page 154 and 155. When Peggy finally fell asleep the clock was 03:00.

* * *

 

Angela Martinelli had the life she’d always wanted as a kid. A husband. A house. A stable income. The only thing missing was the three children running around the house. But lately Angie had been feeling very off about her situation. She loved Frank and the house was great and her income payed the bills. But something was missing and it wasn’t the kids. She had gotten married two years ago, at the age of 24, and had moved the suburban egg area of New York not long after that. Frank wanted kids and such but Angie still wanted to wait. Not that her career was great. A secretary for a law firm wasn’t really the peak of jobs for a woman of the 21st century. She felt… bored. Nothing really exited her anymore. Not even having Frank coming home from work. She needed excitement and drama to keep her best spirit up. Maybe thats why she knocked at the mysterious new neighbor’s door that afternoon. With mystery comes drama and a new friend in the neighborhood couldn’t hurt.  
She knocked three times. Peggy’s car was in the driveway so she couldn’t have gotten that far. Angie knocked again. This time she herd a voice seemingly saying ”coming! i’m coming”. Peggy opened the door and peeked her head out.  
”Hello there, Angie.” Peggy smiled at the slightly smaller woman.  
”English.” Angie greeted. A start to a good friendship was a nickname. ”It’s good to see you again… or rather, your head.” Peggy showed her full self in the doorway. She didn’t want to risk Angie seeing the very empty house. Most people would’ve at least gotten a couch or even a television by now.  
”I’m sorry,” Peggy laughed it off. ”could we talk outside? The house is a mess and I’d rather you’d see it when it’s finished.” That was Peggy’s first mistake. Never invite someone to your house. Now she was bound to put the furniture together.  
”Sure! But just know, I grew up in a big family. I know what messes look like.” Angie tried to play off her excitement from the unofficial invitation. ”So, me and Frank, that’s my husband, Frank, wanted to invite you to dinner some time. Don’t worry, I’ll be cooking. Frank is lousy at that. Even though he went on this culinary class, typa’ thing, he still can’t even boil some eggs without getting it wrong. You wouldn’t be walking for days if he was cooking.” Angie laughed nervously. Why, she didn’t know. She knew she tends to babble when she’s nervous. But what about the British woman could possibly be making her nervous? ”Anyway, so, yes. Friday maybe? Or really any day that works for you.” Stop talking Martinelli. Geez, give the woman some space.  
Peggy didn’t know what to say. If she’d say no she’d be very suspicious since her work was to live in that house. But if she’d say yes she could be exposed. Though spying would be easier if you’re closer to the antagonist.  
”I’d be happy to come over on Friday. Say, six o’clock?” Peggy gave Angie a smile.  
”Six is great! I live just next door. So, if ya ever need a cuppa sugar..” Angie pointed at herself.  
”I will keep that in mind, thank you.” And, though Angie wouldn't have been Peggy's first choice of friend, Peggy still felt as though it was the beginning of something.

* * *

 

Peggy had had friends before. Good ones. She went to an all-girls boarding school in England outside of London. She used to be really good at making friends. Give them compliments, get to know their personality, then work from there. But as soon as she realized the importance of her job, friends no longer came first. Peggy had made the mistake of having one. She will probably never regret what happened to Colleen.  
With her job comes great responsibility and her former roommate was one. Those nightly missions that included beating a lot of people up, had resulted in Colleen's death. Peggy had no idea people were going to follow her home and certainly no idea they would get to her by get to the people close to her. Peggy's life was not an action movie but never underestimate your enemies. Especially not when you're dealing with killers. Peggy had felt very responsible for the death of her roommate and telling Colleen's parents that their daughter was in the wrong place at the wrong time was the worst feeling Peggy had ever had. Lying was a specialty but never a pleasure.  
Peggy seemed to have a habit of loosing people in her life and Jarvis, a butler to her good friend, and incredible wanker, Howard Stark, was the only close friend she had yet to loose.  
Though she worked for the SSR, Peggy had a side job for, when-in-need, this Howard Stark. Howard was the creator of the Stark industries in which he created weapons meant for war and survival. Last year his storage of new inventions had been compromised by someone in which Peggy had to step in and find the dangerous, stolen assets to war. It wasn't the greatest job considering none of her coworkers knew about her badass ass kicking but Howard still believed in her and that made Peggy feel more important, considering.

Nervous didn't even begin to describe the feeling Angela Martinelli had before Peggy’s arrival. She was fluffing a couch cushion for the fifth time and cleaning off the kitchen island after her cooking. She had a potato gratin in the oven and steak cooking on the grill. 05:56pm. Angie had approximately four minutes to make a salad assuming Peggy would be right on time. As Angie tore and washed the salad she couldn’t help but thinking about the woman who would be coming over. Though Angie had only met Peggy once, there was something very intriguing about her. Maybe the english accent threw Angie off but Peggy had muscles, and that was a fact. A tank top had been a lousy way of covering them up, if she was even trying to cover them up. Angie wanted muscles like that. The confidence Peggy seemed to have. Unfortunately, Angie had some lack of confidence when it came to her body. Boys and locker rooms had been cruel to her in high school and since then Angie had been changing in her bathroom. Frank seemed to like her, though. Considering he married her. Angie thought herself as lucky when she looks at her ring. It wouldn’t have been there if it wasn't for Frank Stohl.  
”I smell love and passion and I believe it’s not just my feelings for you.” Frank came down the stairs from the office, he had been in for the past hour and a half, and kissed Angie on the cheek. ”Is that steak?” he reached his hand out as though he would grab it but Angie quickly slapped it away.  
”It’s for you, me and Peggy.” Angie said and put the steaks on three plates.  
”Right, Peggy. When was she coming over again?” and as the question was asked a doorbell rang. Angie checked the clock. 06:00pm.  
”Right on time.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't already notice, the story is set in present time. Also I wrote Peggy as homosexual instead of bi so there will have been no Steve in the past (sorry bout that)

 

It was definitely not some awkward silence at the table. In fact it was the opposite. 

”So, Peggy, are you married or got any boyfriend?” Frank asked with his very Boston accent.

”Well, I’m afraid that I lack boyfriends and am currently married to my job.” Peggy smiled and tried to hide the sense of irony in her voice for work was the exact reason she was here.

”What do ya work with?” Angie asked but tried not to form her question as an interrogation. Both her and Frank war sitting at the round table looking at Peggy whilst eating their food.

”I… uhm… I work as a criminology professor.” That seemed like the most logic response in case Peggy would expose too much of her skills for police departments. Peggy took a sip of the red, expensive wine Angie had offered.

”So you’re the one who’s teaching the cops to shoot the blacks.” Frank insinuated. Peggy nearly choked on her drink and Angie burst out a ”Frank!”

”What, just sayin’ the truth. Those cops blame their ed for what they do and I asked the simple question.” 

”Oh, it’s fine. In fact we teach the future police men to shoot when they’re assuming threat although the racist police men blame their education to blame something. It’s easier than to come right out and say you don’t like a person of a certain color.” 

”That was the right answer.” Frank nodded and took a bite of his steak.

”It was the truth. Teachers are not responsible for their students reckless behavior.” Peggy got way in to her role as a professor. She did, however, have a very strong opinion about the murders that had occurred. She took another bite of her meal.

”Angie, this is absolutely delicious.” Peggy said and, really, she did mean it. Peggy didn’t have a lot of time to cook for herself so instant noodles had become her best friend. 

”Oh, thank you. I actually used rubs form my garden!” Angie said, exited about the compliment. 

”Yes, you’re lucky I didn’t cook.” Frank joked.

”I heard. But Angie told me you went to culinary school.” which was interesting considering Peggy’s case.

”More like one class. I don’t think I even remember what I was taught.” Frank laughed a little at his self-deprived joke.

”Didn’t you learn how to rinse a fish?” Angie Asked with her mouth full of potato gratin.

”Oh, yea. Y’know the knowledge of rinsing fish always comes in handy.” Frank laughed again.

”Well, if ya ever need anyone to gut an animal for ya Frank is probably at his office.” Angie laughed. 

”You’ve got quite interesting choice of a vocabulary.” Peggy smiled and suspected a lot. Angie chose not to acknowledge what Peggy said. ”So how did you two meet?” Peggy asked to steer off the conversation.

”Oh, honey, can I tell the story?” Angie asked Frank with excitement in her voice. Frank made a hand gesture to tell her to go ahead. ”Well, we met on my birthday. My friend, Jessie, had asked my pa’ if she could throw me a forties themed birthday party and sent out invitations to almost all o’ New York. So my ma’ surprised me with a dress and a hairdresser and got me all nice for the party and guess who came.” Angie looked at Frank and took his hand over the table.

”Seem’s like yesterday.” Frank said.

”Yea, well, I wish I was three years younger.” Angie sighed and let go of Frank’s hand. Peggy smiled amused.

”Forties? Really?” Peggy asked.

”Yes, well, ma angel’s a sucka’ fo’ vintage.” Frank said and looked at Angie who had her eyes focused on Peggy.

”What do ya mean _’really’_?” Angie asked and imitated Peggy’s accent.

”I just mean it’s an interesting choice to be a socalled ’sucka’’ for.” Peggy tilted her head and smiled apologetic. ”If I would’ve lived, back then, I would’ve be looked upon as a minority and have a cause of death by, either, electrocution or chemically neutered.” 

”And why is that?” Angie asked confused. Sure, being a woman was looked upon as a minority but not punishable by death.

”Homosexuality was not great to be after the war.” Peggy joked. Angie stopped chewing. 

”No, it certainly wasn’t.” Frank added.

 

Angie was quiet for the rest of the dinner. She definitely had no problem with Peggy being homosexual. In fact, it was the opposite. Angie had met lots of homosexuals. When she first started working as a waitress, at a restaurant/café, her best good friend, Bucky, was homosexual. Although he was a guy. Angie assumed there were differences between gays and lesbians. Peggy, for example, would probably not take Angie to a Beyoncé themed club. No, Peggy really didn’t seem like the clubbing type. She probably wouldn’t be making out with a lot of guys at this club either, if she now were to go clubbing. Angie didn’t quite know how to explain the feeling she got when she heard Peggy was homosexual. Quite frankly, thinking about it scared Angie a little bit.

 

* * *

 

_She felt… confused to say the least. A red room with a love seat in front of a roaring fire made Angie feel warm inside. She heard a soft voice behind her. Someone was calling out her name. Angie slowly turned around to meet a steady gaze and blood red lips. Peggy Carter, in all black lingerie. startled Angie._

_”I… I really don’t think we should be doing this.” Angie’s voice cracked._

_”Shh.” Peggy walked, for what seemed to be an eternity, towards Angie, keeping her ready gaze on Angie’s green eyes._

_”W-what if he comes home.” Angie leered down an appearing hallway leading to a door._

_”No one will know, darling.” Peggy was now right in front of Angie. Inches keeping them apart and no reason seemed to come to Angie’s mind for them not to do whatever they were doing. Angie closed the gap. Peggy’s hand ran along side Angie and were brought up to her hair, deepening the kiss. Angie’s arms wrapped around Peggy’s neck and Peggy tangled her legs in Angie’s. They fell to the floor not causing any apparent damage whilst Peggy had a steady hand on Angie’s hip. She brought her lips down, gently tugging Angie’s neck and cupped her breast. Without thinking twice about how, Angie were out of her clothes as well as Peggy were out of the previous lingerie. Leaving love bites, every possible place Peggy could, she brought her lips further down on to Angie’s body gently rubbing her nipple with a thumb. Angie gave out a whimpered moan and Peggy’s fingers traced down Angie’s body and was run up her thigh. Angie felt her body throb and all she could wish for was more._

 

Angie woke up with her head pounding and sat straight up in bed. She was soaked in sweat and her breath was heavy. Frank was still sleeping beside her. Angie got out as quiet as she could and swept herself in a robe. Her nightgown clinged to her body. She turned the lights on in the kitchen and brewed herself some tea. The only thing Angie could hear was the electricity streaming in the lightbulbs and the sound of her own heartbeat. She leaned agains the countertop patiently waiting for her tea to cool. Her dream was in the back of her mind while she clammed her brain with a neat schedule for the morning. 

Coffee

Toothbrush

Pantsuit

Briefcase

Car keys

Parking

Coffee

Mrs O’Malley

Paperwork

Lunch

Business calls

Car keys

Dinner

Frank

Talk

Peggy

Frank 

Peggy

Frank

Peggy

Peggy

Peggy

 

_For godssake! You’ve known the woman for a day and she has cumbered your mind. Note to self: get more friends._

 

* * *

 

Peggy had noticed the light in the kitchen turning on at 03:24 in the morning. Maybe the people she got to know was the exact people she needed to get to know. Though she had a plan for the coming day to walk door to door with small baskets full of store-bought muffins introducing herself to her new neighbors. Getting a good look at the people who greeted her would do much to her work. The car she had previously seen would be a plus too, if she could find it.

Her tired mind drifted off to the dinner. Angie had seemed awfully quiet after Peggy’s small coming out sentence. It tended to put people in place and if Peggy were to be completely honest, a part of her wished she hadn’t spoken about the 40s’. She could accept that some people needed not to know about her sexuality and even if they did there were plenty of ways Peggy could’ve slipped in a hint. No need to call people out. A part of her hoped she hadn’t made Angie feel some sort of stupidity or anger towards herself. When Peggy told people they tended to either react with ”Oh, I’m sorry. I’m stupid for assuming.” or just ”Oh.” Nothing Peggy wasn’t used too but an, assuming, usually chattery Angela was put in her place and Peggy got a feeling she wasn’t used to it. And though Peggy was there for work, Angie had seemed very genuine and nice. It was the husband Peggy had second thoughts about. Being bad at the main thing the antagonist was good at was the oldest trick in the book. And since it was assumed the serial killer was a butcher, being the opposite of that would be perfect. Though Frank wasn’t vegetarian, maybe because that would make it too obvious.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is Monday and, really, in the beginning, I promised myself I would upload on Sundays. But I have a habit of procrastination so no judging. (Side note: Psychotic description involved.)

Leaving baskets had gone great. Mostly women opened the door. Peggy got invited to five dinners parties and one cup of tea. It was clear to Peggy that most of these women did not know how to act in the presence of an english woman.However, Peggy also met two men and a very old man with an annoyed look on his face when he opened the door dragging his oxygen tank along with him. Peggy was glad she didn’t show up empty handed. One husband with unbuttoned shirt and baby food all over his face was very nice, and Peggy wished to god that it wasn’t him who butchered women, and then another husband who was in a morbid hurry and didn’t even accept the muffins. Not a trace of the mystery car in anyones parking spot.

Walking home Peggy heard a sharp voce coming from one of the lots.

 

”English, I’ve heard you really know how to make an impression.” Angie leaned over her fence smiling at Peggy.

”What?” Peggy asked not knowing if Angie was talking about the dinner or the fact that she went door to door to every house in the neighborhood.

”Sarah called, she lives on 12th, blonde hair, kind of slutty, said an English woman had turned down her dinner invitation but offered her muffins.” Angie half yelled unnecessarily for her voice.

”Well, I don’t go to dinner for just anyone.” Peggy said, unintentionally flirting while Angie got quiet. ”I had to work.” Peggy quickly explained.

”Oh, well do you have time to look at my bushes?” Angie stopped and looked half surprised of what she just said. ”Uhm, I mean, my garden. I’m trimming my garden. Geez. Just forget it.” Ange blushed hard and Peggy covered her giggle with her hand.

”I would love to see your garden.” she smiled and change directions towards the Martinelli-Stohl household. Angie took off her gloves and threw them on the ground while straightening her shirt and brushing off dirt from her jeans. The large pair of scissors were thrown on the grass as well as a shovel and a bag of dirt. 

 

_As much as I wanted to I didn’t say anything when Mrs. Bagget told her off. Her office was filled with books and papers and her fax stood on a table in the corner of the room. Mrs. Bagget was a family friend. My mother knew her well and sought to it that she would be informed if I did anything slightly inappropriate. This. This was more than slightly. But I was not to have the blame. Mrs. Bagget liked me. I was a proper lady of a proper family so blaming the girl I fooled around with was the only right thing to do. Her father was no gentleman and her mother a slut. Her brothers were bastards and sisters were gone. Still, all I did was stand there. Her ”attack” on me was seen as dreadful and packing her bags to go home was the last thing she could do. It was a school of discipline and tradition. I was handed a ruler. But I did nothing. I squeezed it till my knuckles turned white and my hand cramped but the ruler was never brought through the air. I wanted to throw it at Mrs. Bagget. Grab her hand and run out of the school. Scream ”THIS IS THE 20TH CENTURY” and never look back. Instead, Mrs. Bagget sighed took the ruler out of my hand and with three quick slaps she was crying and her hand was bleeding. I never saw her again after that._

 

Angie took pride in her creation. Flowers attracted bees and since the bees were going extinct the least Angie could do work them was to give them something to pollinate. She learned that from a gardening show. They didn’t bother her unless they came in to her house. If that was the case, aside with the extinction crap, Frank was allergic. 

Whilst Peggy went around smelling different herbs and flowers Angie explained what they all meant from what she’d learned from tv. 

”Thyme, from Greece, means ’courage’. Oregano, also from Greece, means mountain and joy.” Peggy just nodded along not knowing if what Angie said was true. ”Sunflowers means just that. Sun and flower.”

”They are very beautiful.” Peggy agreed.

”Yes, well, it’s hell trying to find a stick long enough for them and constantly tying them to it.” Angie joked and was about to move on to the next flowers when she realized she had no idea what they meant. ”Violets… Violets means…”

”I know what violets mean.” Peggy said quickly to avoid tension.

”Good because I don’t" Angie’s eyes met Peggy’s. Frank pulled up in the drive way. ”I was just wondering when he’d show up.” Angie broke eye contact whilst Peggy’s never left their place. ”Hello honey!” Angie greeted Frank with open arms.

”Hello sweetie. Peggy.” Frank nodded to Peggy.

”Right, hello. Thank you for dinner last night. I had a blast. Is that your car?” Peggy spoke quickly and barely inspected the car already knowing.

”Yes…” Frank managed to say before Peggy spoke again.

”Well then. I better go. Papers to grade. I will see you around.” Peggy walked fast over to her house and didn’t bother to acknowledge Angie.

”See ya’ Pegs…” Angie frowned and wonder what the sudden rush Peggy seemed to have was.

* * *

 

Quickly Peggy took out the piece of paper to study its scribbles. The registration plate belonged to Frank’s car, no doubt about it. 

* * *

 

His mind was fixated on what to do next. He knew the woman was onto Him. Her whole department was. Though He’d done this many times, and not just to women, His hands were shaking when He drove the car. He knew just the place to drop off the blonde. Her husband would find her in the dumpster outside his favorite strip club. Nothing new. She had been sleeping with his boss so who was the one to blame, really? He sped up. Not a lot of cops were patrolling for speeders during the night. He knew the protocol. Over the police radio He could hear in what range the cops were. And they were nowhere close. Out of the strip club flooded a crowd of drunk men. Bachelor party, supposedly. The husband would be there, He knew that much. Quick in. Quick out. He drove around back into the little, empty alley. The bag in the baggage space was dripping of blood. He cursed quietly to Himself. Cleaning was not one of His expertise but in recent turn of events He had gotten surprisingly good at it. Opening the bag the familiar smell of metal filled the air and quickly emptying its content in the dumpster calmed Him. This woman hadn’t been very special. Blue eyes like the rest of them. But it would never be enough. He knew that. Nothing could fill the emptiness that She had left. 

* * *

 

Peggy watched the house. No unusual activity seemed to be going on. Peggy knew that the safest place for Angie to be was in there. If Frank now very well was the one they’d been looking for he had yet to kill Angie. Which meant he probably wouldn’t try now. Though Angie was dirt blonde she did have green eyes. Peggy had very well taken notice to that. I was somewhat calming for her to know that Angie was safe. The violets burnt a mark in Peggy’s mind. _They symbolize Purity and Charm against evil, I return your love Faithfulness, Modesty and Simplicity._ Peggy blinked away the tears. Tonight was no night for nostalgia. But it seemed as though tonight was no time for anything. At twelve the lights went out and they never went back on. No car. No movement. No nothing. So it was to Peggy’s surprise the call in the morning brought bad news. Sarah Hoffman. Thirty year old married woman and an apparent ”slut”. Gutted. 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took a long-ass time and im sorry

Not much happened after the death of Sarah Hoffman. The was a memorial held by Sarah’s mother and Angie regretted the times she had called Sarah a slut. There had not been any witnesses who could testify against the murder since most of the people who had been at the club at that time were blackout drunk and barely had any memory of even going there. The security camera footage had been neatly avoided and the camera in the alley had conveniently been broken by a beer bottle the night before. The whole neighborhood came to the memorial. After the ’She’s in God’s hands now’ multiple people were crying including a man in a very proper suit and a tie that looked like it could be worth a thousand bucks. Peggy later caught the man and Mr. Hoffman, Sarah’s husband, throwing a fit with each other but were calmed down by Sarah’s mother. Peggy was sad about the whole thing. She would never admit it, but it wasn’t all because of the fact that Sarah was dead. Of course, the fact that she was dead was tragic. But this would definitely lower Peggy’s performance grades for Chief Dooley. And Peggy _never_ lowered her grades.

Mr. Stohl had been in a business meeting when the memorial was held so Angie’s shoulder to cry on had been Peggy’s. Peggy didn’t mind. Consoling Angie was the least she could do after feeling like she’d failed at the job she was assigned to. No, Peggy did definitely _not_ see consoling a devastated Angela Martinelli as a downside to her job. It was always nice to have a friend she didn’t feel like she needed to compete with. Peggy and Angie grew quite close after the memorial. Three weeks passed and they were practically best friends. Peggy had gotten her house sorted and Angie had even squeezed in a little knowledge of cooking into Peggy’s brain after seeing a trashcan full of take-out boxes. The house was now filled with scents of oregano, thyme, and some salvia Angie had gotten from her favorite gardening store in SoHo. Still, the new friendship had not made Peggy less focused on her work. Her mind was still fixed on finding the person of interest and Peggy wouldn’t allow Angie to be that person. Most of the time Peggy was focused on Frank. His work hours had grown quite drastically to butcher what Angie had said. "He sleeps at the office once a week ’cause of the goddamn traffic. At least that what he tells me, anyway. I know he ain’t cheatin’ cause he always answers when I call." These nights Peggy investigated from inside the suspect's house. The investigation included tea drinking and old Greta Garbo movies. It was very informing. Turns out Casablanca can be watched more than once.

But the stepping over the line part happened when Angie was showing Peggy how to make Boeuf Bourguignon.

"No, English, it's only been 4 hours. To make the perfect beef bourguignon it has to be cooked 8." Angie laughed at Peggy's impatience.

" _Boeuf bourguignon"_ Peggy corrected the butchered accent and smiled.

"I still can't believe you know french." Angie shook her head and continued drinking the weird English beer Peggy had in her fridge. 

"I'm English, darling. We all know french and we all went to boarding school." Peggy joked. Her kitchen was more or less empty except for all the pans Angie had brought over from her place. The slow cooker was Angie's too, obviously, but she didn't find it remotely weird that Peggy didn't have the kitchen appliances after seeing the ramen packages in the trash. 

"So everything I've heard about the brits are true then?" Angie asked alluring while moving closer to the kitchen island where Peggy was leaning watching Angie do most of the work. "You say 'governor' a lot and drink tea." Peggy laughed. Normally she would've sighed in despair but she didn't care at this moment.

"Pretty much." She nodded. The two were now very close and all of a sudden time stopped for the both of them. Everything was quiet except for two hearts speeding up. Angie could feel every muscle she moved closer to Peggy's face. Every breath Peggy took. Every movement. Time stopped until Peggy took a step back and excused herself. "I-I should get back to work." Angie just stared ahead until she could find the words she was looking so desperately for.

"Right, papers to grade." Angie looked around for her phone she picked up off the counter and put in her pocket. "Sorry, I- uh -I have to go." and just like that, Angie was out the door.

* * *

Peggy had never been so sure of anything in her life. Keep Angela Martinelli away from herself. The dirt blonde, green-eyed woman was in a danger zone. And Margaret Elizabeth Carter was not about to be the cause of yet another one of her friend's deaths. So Peggy did what any sensible woman would do. Buried herself in work. She investigated all night and during the day, she made acquaintance with her neighbors to list the possibilities.

_Verne_

_~~Hoffman~~  _

_Caverly_

_Stevens_

_Brown_

_Johnson_

_Ledford_

_Reynolds_

_Griffin_

_Pratt_

_LaGrone_

_Short_

Peggy hesitated til she decided to write the last names.

_Stohl/Martinelli_

* * *

Angie, unlike Peggy, didn't dive into work. Apparently there was a lot to do when it came to her marriage. When Frank came home, Angie did something she hadn't done in months.

Putting down his briefcase, Frank sighed and loosened his tie. Stress would be the first and foremost description on his mind. So coming home to a practically naked wife and a candlelit mood wasn't terrible. 

"What's the occasion?" Frank smiled and took off his shoes.

"Oh, nothing, I was just… in a mood." Angie smirked and proceeded to walk slowly towards Frank. She didn't think. She didn't want to think. All she wanted to do was forget.

"Well, not to ruin this perfect moment, babe, but did you go to work today?" Frank had been suspicious when it came to Angie's work. He tried to call her office but she never answered.

"No, I quit." Angie was distracting Frank by nibbling his ear and trying to get his blazer off.

"You did what?!" Frank pushed her away and turned the lights on. "You quit your job?"

"Yeah, I did, I wasn't happy there and I didn't feel like it was going anywhere. Why is this such a big deal?" Angie was surprised by the reaction she got. Frank wouldn't have acted up like this if it wasn't for a good reason.

"Are you stupid? This is just like you. Never thinking of anyone but yourself. It's always 'me' here and 'me' there isn't it? How are we supposed to pay our bills?"

"Oh, Frank c'mon. It was a lousy job that paid nothing! Aren't you glad I'm happy?" Angie knew Frank could lose his temper and say things he didn't mean. This, she hoped, were one of those times.

"They're laying people off, okay? Ima' get laid off just because that's how it works and now you quit yo job? What kind of a man will I be if I can't provide for my family and our future kids?!" Frank was upset, to say the least. But this was too much for Angie to handle. 

"Oh? I'm sorry you need money just to prove your manliness. God Frank! Sometimes you're just too damn immature to see what's important?" Angie was storming off while putting on the robe she had thrown on the couch.

"And what's more important than a roof over our heads?"

"Your wife!" Angie shut the bedroom door while Frank was still downstairs. She could hear him walk out the door and start the car as she sobbed loudly. She hadn't seen Peggy for a week but all she wanted now was her.  _God,_ she thought,  _Frank was right. I am stupid._

* * *

Peggy saw it. The storming off part that is. And the lump in the pit of her stomach grew.

 

 


End file.
